Prosthesis
by JuniperLemon
Summary: After being injured in a war mine explosion, Steve loses his right leg but is chosen to receive the serum to save his life. 70 years later, he wakes up in New York with a new prosthetic leg from SHIELD. Tension between him and Tony disperses after Tony finds out about his amputation.
1. Chapter 1

1943 -

Of course Steve knew about mines. They learned about them in basic training and it was difficult to be in the army for even one day without seeing the damage a mine could do. However, all the learning and knowledge behind mines goes completely out of the window when you trigger one.

In the millisecond you have before you explode your brain immediately jumps straight to, "Oh shit!"

The next thing you know you're either dead or wake up in or on your way to a field hospital. That's if you didn't bleed out in the minutes after the explosion. But one of the worst things about mines is that they were incredibly difficult to spot amongst the grass, mud or foliage which made it a death trap for newbies and experienced soldiers alike. It was impossible to outsmart a landmine. This was a fact that Captain Steve Rogers found out very quickly after he heard the familiar click of a mine detonator.

—

The backpacks were heavy on their backs, stocked with supplies and water. Steve could hear that further back in the unit someone's pack was making a slight noise that echoed each step. It distracted him for a moment; perhaps it was a button colliding with a tin mug strapped to the outside of the bag to save room, maybe it was the dog tags of a fallen soldier clicking against others man's on his chest. Steve shook his head and forced himself to concentrate but it was hard in the heat of summer with sweat dripping down his spine. Perhaps if he had had a better night's sleep or drank more water today then it wouldn't have happened but whatever led him to the mine must have had a plan for him. Maybe, one day, he'd even call it destiny.

The trees around them rustled in the light summer breeze which, while pleasant against his warm cheek, made it harder to listen out for enemies nearby. His unit followed closely, copying his lead. He had successfully navigated the majority of this French forest without being spotted or fired at which meant that he was counting the mission as 99% completed. Just the last stretch before they are in the clear which led to their camp. He could almost taste the cots and fires around the corner.

Maybe it was his eagerness which was his downfall. All he knew was that one minute he was leading his men through the trees and the next he could barely breathe through the all-over body pain.

He hadn't opened his eyes yet as the rocking of the stretcher jarred his body, sending shots of increased pain through him. The panicked voices of the men saturated the usually quiet air. For some reason it brought to mind a swarm of bees gathering in defence of their hive with their buzzing being extraordinarily loud.

He could hear a groan escape from his lips without him being aware he made it. Some of the stretcher barers bent down to be closer to his head and one of them murmured,

"Hold on, Cap! Not far now. They'll set you right." The voice was young and optimistic but Steve could hear the doubt trying to break through. They thought he was going to die. He thought he was going to die.

He wasn't dumb; he was going to die and that knowledge didn't scare him at all. He'd had enough sleepless nights to ponder his death and the select number of friends he had probably wouldn't even notice him gone. Except maybe Bucky. A stab of guilt wracked through him as he though of leaving Bucky behind. He hoped that somehow Bucky would be informed of his passing.

He could hear the squad squawking around like headless chickens and, while for many of them it was only their first time out, he wanted to believe he'd taught them better. He was about to think it through more when one of the men carrying the stretcher stumbled, despite Steve being light, and a jolt ripped through Steve's leg. That gave him the first opportunity to identify the area with the most pain even though every single part of his body was on fire. Something had happened to his leg.

It took a few minutes more before they broke out of the forest and picked up pace as they headed towards the hospital tent. He could hear people they passed by mumbling his name or calling out to him. Captain Steve Rogers was a popular man on base and everyone knew him or had heard of his heroics, despite his small stature, so it was quite a scene to see him being hauled into base on a stretcher.

The noises of the medic tent finally broke through the din and he heard nurses, glass bottles and pained cries. He'd been in to visit plenty of times but, luckily, never for anything himself.

A nurse hissed as he was brought to her. Her inhale of breath didn't reassure Steve in the slightest.

"This is going to be a messy one." Her Scottish accent was somewhat soothing to him, "Can you open your eyes, dearie?"

It immediately dawned on him that he hadn't opened his eyes yet due to them being scrunched up in pain. It hadn't even occurred to him to attempt to do so on the journey in. With what felt like a Herculean effort, he wrenched his eyelids apart to peer up at the woman.

Resting a gentle hand on his blond hair, she soothed, "We'll see what we can do for you." But it didn't sound promising.

She left to fetch water and towels to mop him up while they waited for the doctor to come and make his assessments. It stung as she wiped away the majority of the debris and softly she apologized every time he took a sharp inhale of breath.

"What's wrong, nurse?" A voice he didn't recognise approached.

"A mine... His leg."

The doctor sounded shocked despite all of the horrors he saw on a daily basis, "If that's what you can call that..."

It was in that instant that Steve knew that today had been his last day with both his legs. However, he also knew that he was lucky it hadn't been his last day alive.

—

They had moved him to a larger hospital for the amputation. A fact which Steve briefly forgot when he was coming around from the anaesthetic so panicked greatly for a minute.

He was in pain but he didn't feel much different physically. The fog in his brain made it harder for him to work out what had happened and the men on beds either side of him were both asleep and not a nurse in sight. He swallowed thickly but his dry throat made the action uncomfortable.

Someone most have noticed him moving as a nurse rushed over by his side from the nurses station,"Glad to see you're wake, Captain Rogers." She lifted a glass of water to his lips, "You're surgery has gone well but we'll have to wait and see for signs of infection."

He nodded despite his brain barely taking in her words. Her brief visit ended quickly as another patient called out to her in pain. It would have been a perfect time for him to reflect on the surgery but drugs were still pounding around his system so he hadn't quite realised that he was now an amputee. Besides, the drugs eased him into a fitful sleep after only a few more heartbeats anyway.

—

He didn't remember being moved but when he woke up next he was in a different room and it must have been night as darkness shrouded his surroundings. The soldier, heart beating heavily, peered into the darkness as an uneasy feeling in his subconscious told him that something lurking in the blackness had awoken him. Eyes struggling to adjust, he squinted.

"Who's there?" His voice rasped due to lack of both water and use. Without fully realising it, he suddenly knew he'd been asleep for much longer than he thought.

The inky darkness moved until the stranger was close enough to form a silhouette against the background. He was too drugged up to fully react how he should so just continued frowning at the figure.

"Who are you? What do you need?" Shockingly, his voice was somehow confident.

An accented voice replied, "Captain Rogers. It's not what do I need but more, what do you need?"

"I don't need anything." It came as an automatic response to the man. The accent twisted a slight sense of anxiety into Steve's stomach and the sudden idea of him being assassinated by the enemy popped into his head. He swallowed thickly.

"You've been in a coma for 2 weeks after your surgery caused an infection in your... leg. You're body is weak and without help you could easily die. We both know your real track record when it comes to health isn't the best." The man informed him easily.

Steve's eyes darted down to his right leg. Whole body freezing, he stared at the empty space where his lower leg would be. He couldn't breath as he attempted to move his leg and hissed between his teeth at the pain. He looked up at the stranger.

"Who are you?" Pressing, he was determined to get an answer: Friend or foe?

"Dr. Abraham Erskine, at your service. I represent the Strategic Scientific Reserve and I have a proposition."

Steve was rightly suspicious, "What is it?"

The doctor then began to explain his new invention: a super soldier serum. In depth, he explained its potential and what the good doctor hoped it would achieve. There was great stress placed on its restorative abilities and how it will completely transform Steve's body and remove any trace of the infection currently threatening his life. As the doctor talked Steve drug addled mind slowly grew clearer and he could follow easier.

"And my leg?" He asked when the mention of infection reminded him of his new stump.

Erskine shrugged, "Honestly, I can't tell what it'll do. It may come back but it may not. Are you willing to wear an advanced prosthetic on the battlefield, just in case?"

Despite the doctor's uncertainty regarding the re-establishment of his leg, Steve knew he'd jump at any opportunity of potentially getting his leg back and getting back to the war with his men. He'd felt bad leaving them. Besides, he had just been told that his body was still fighting a possible fatal infection so surely his sickly body could use all of the help it could get.

"Why me?" Steve asked, looking up at the doctor.

The man smiled slightly, "Your reputation precedes you. You don't think we hear of what happens on the field? No, many talk of Steve Rogers and all you've accomplished. Your resistance to this infection and all your sickness before display your body's strength and preservation. We need a leader who knows what's its like to be the little guy. We need you."

Within 24 hours, Steve was being prepared to undergo another procedure but this time with the hope of recovering what he'd lost or at least maintaining his life. They had to speed through the beginning stages as the infection in his leg was fighting against them.

Before he knew it Steve was being lowered into a casket-esque contraption with no promise he'd even make it out alive.


	2. Chapter 2

The machine hissed as it opened and as the smoke cleared, Steve could see the faces of all the onlookers and scientists peering down at him from their glass tower. The experiment could read the eagerness in their faces at his emergence. He couldn't pay attention to them for long, however, as the clearness of his lungs and looseness of his muscles suddenly captured his attention. Peering down he could see his new rippling muscles and could barely believe that after years of being the little guy he was finally not. There were still scars across his torso and thighs from the mine explosion weeks before but they looked old and mostly healed thanks to the serum. It would be easy to believe that years rather than days separated Steve from the worst day of his life.

In shock, he took an eager step forward to feel the world on his new, pain and sickness free body. However, with his first step he suddenly collapsed onto the ground. People swarmed him to help him up but not before he'd gotten a glance at the stump that remained begrudgingly on the end of his right thigh. He sighed heavily but realised that with his health now intact he could cope with an amputated leg as the rest of his body was fit enough to adapt.

His mind briefly flicked across the fact that the amputation would have pretty much been a death sentence for him either through infection or through his inability to continue his career.

He was helped up and pictures were taken. He smiled bewilderedly.

Doctor Erskine approached him with a smile, "Perfection. Now to get you a prosthesis and get you back on the battlefield, soldier."

"It didn't fix my leg." He spoke almost numbly.

The doctor sighed, "It wasn't going to."

Steve didn't know why he wanted to cry but he knew he wasn't about to let it happen moments after his life was saved.

—

A couple of weeks later and Steve had begun to work through his anger towards Erskine about lying about the possibility of his leg being fixed. But, he also knew that if the doctor hadn't lied then he probably wouldn't have been here at all; almost everyone was in consensus that his infection would have taken his life.

During the weeks, he had been learning to walk on a prosthetic leg which turned out to be more difficult than it appeared. He fell several times everyday and had even broken a metal leg during one particularly bad tumble.

His new leg was made of wood and leather so was heavy but with Steve's new strength it didn't pose much of a challenge for him. The joint was rudimentary and hard to manoeuvre but Steve didn't want to complain. The doctor promised to develop a high tech prosthetic to make it easier for Steve in the field and he knew that technology was always offering new opportunities.

The work he was putting into regaining his ability to walk kept him busy in the day but nighttime was completely different.

He was alone in his room every night which was sparsely furnished and cold. It was a stark difference from the camaraderie and community you felt when living amongst hundreds of other soldiers. He wasn't ashamed to say that he cried most nights at the loss of his leg, the loss of companionship or just the overwhelming experience he was going through.

Resting against his pillows, he flicked on the lamp beside his bed and, for the first time, fully took in his leg. His thigh stopped a few inches above where his knee would have previously been. The scar tissue was old and faded due to the serum so didn't have the angry red marks he would have had previously. With the gentle fingers of an artist, Steve's touch ghosted across his stump and he flinched at the illusion of pain. Phantom pain, he'd been told about it. The longer he inspected it, the more acceptance filled his heart. More than anything, he was just pleased it was him that stood on the mine rather than one of his squad.

That night, he slept easier than he had in weeks. However, little did he know that within a handful of months he'd end up under the ice and have to endure the longest sleep of his life.

—

When he awoke he leapt out of the bed immediately. The prosthetic on his leg was unfamiliar and he stumbled ungracefully, catching himself against the wall to stop himself falling.

"What the..." he muttered under his breath as he peered down at the green pants, he could barely see the angles and straps of the prosthetic under the fabric.

Looking around, he realised that he wasn't in the same place that he'd usually fall asleep on base. The golden light that streamed through the window also told him that he wasn't his usual waking up time. It was suddenly that the radio piqued his interest as a crowd cheered over a baseball game. Slowly, it dawned on him that he had been in attendance on that day. He peered around suspiciously with the realisation that this could be a Hydra trap or something.

The door opened and Steve span on the spot, ready to fight. The unfamiliarity of the light weight strapped to his leg made him nearly lose his balance; he'd adjusted to the old prosthetic in every way so a sudden change was throwing him off. He eased slightly when a woman in US uniform walked in. Her dark curled hair was long and rested against her shoulders. His mind registered the unusualness of her hairstyle for a war time.

"Good morning," Her voice was bright and friendly. She checked her watch to tease him, "Or should I say, afternoon?"

A crease formed between his brows, "Where am I?"

"You're in a recovery room in New York."

Steve could hear the familiar game over the radio. He eyed the woman carefully before asking, "Where am I really?" Even the air coming through the open window had a different scent to it, too clear and sterile.

She feigned innocence and frowned slightly, "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"The game, it's from May, nineteen forty one. I know, cause I was there. Now, I'm gonna ask you again. Where am I?"

She only managed to say, "Captain Rogers…" before a couple of men marched in to sedate him. Instantly springing to action, he threw them against the wall but they tore straight through which revealed the set up. He leapt through the hole he'd punched with their bodies and marvelled at how the prosthetic leg caught his shifting weight. The old leg would have buckled under the pressure of the leap and his quick movements but this one was close to natural.

He heard voices and ran as fast as he could while still minorly unsteady on his new leg. Somehow he managed to find the exit of the unfamiliar building and dart away. It almost felt like having his real leg back with how smoothly the device evolved to cope with his strides. The sound of his feet pounding against the tarmac echoed through his bones.

Suddenly, he stopped and peered around at the unfamiliar world around him. Could so much change in his short time abroad? His chest was heaving more due to the sudden surprise rather than physical exertion.

Cars surrounded him and a man in a dark coat and an eye patch approached him. Immediately Steve was suspicious as he'd learnt from the comics of his youth that the men with eyepatches were usually the villain of the story.

The man spoke, "At ease, soldier! Look, I'm sorry about that little show back there, but… we thought it best to break it to you slowly."

The soldier frowned at the man, "Break what?"

The man, he later discovered to be Nick Fury, answered, "You've been asleep, Cap. For almost seventy years."

Steve's mouth fell open as he gazed around at the flashing billboards and modern cars. Blue eyes took it all in thoroughly but a part of him was still in disbelief. His tongue darted out to moisten his dry lips, an anxious habit he'd never managed to break.

As he looked back to Fury he could see a small smirk on the man's lips. He was enjoying this.

Steve couldn't help but allow his mouth to twitch slightly. A doctor once told him that he wouldn't live beyond the age of 12 and now here he was nearly 70 years later. All it took was a little help.

—

A week later-

Steve was just finishing up in the gym. He'd removed his prosthetic leg and was stretching out his muscles on the mats. Sweat glistened across his exposed back and torso. He hardly even noticed the scars marking his skin now that so much had happened to him. His brain was too busy dealing with the present rather than the past.

He heard Fury enter but didn't look up at the man. He hadn't yet decided if he liked him or if he was hiding something.

"You need me?" Steve asked from the floor, mid-stretch.

Fury looked down on the man with his cold eyes, "I think it's about time you got back to saving the world, don't you?"

Steve didn't have to answer. He just slipped his thigh back into his leg and stood up.

"I think the world has waited long enough."


	3. Chapter 3

The mission had started and Steve still hadn't met Tony Stark or Clint Barton. He'd met Natasha and Bruce on the landing strip when Coulson had arrived with him. They seemed nice enough and he was eager to know what they could do in battle after hearing such good things. After many years of commanding a squad, he knew the importance in having the best team possible.

Tony Stark, on the other hand, had become anxious regarding their introductions as Coulson had practically delivered a 35 minute presentation on how Stark could sometimes be an ass (phrased a lot more democratically) and as a result, Tony, offended by Coulson's comparison between him and Steve, didn't want Steve involved with the team at all. Besides, Stark had practically been raised on Captain America hero worship from his dad so was just about sick of the man already. As far as he was aware, the man hadn't done anything to deserve their praise and respect.

—

Steve met up with the team and headed down to the lab for a quick catch up on Bruce's attempts to track down the tesseract. Steve hoped he could do it; the man deserved a win after everyone had just been talking about him turning into a giant green monster all day and the scientist had definitely heard what they had been saying. Steve had already decided that he liked the awkward and uncomfortable scientist as they had both faced adversity throughout their lives.

They entered the lab and proceeded to fall into an argument and Steve knew he'd regret participating in it later. Steve said stuff he knew he would regret and Stark gave just as good as he got. When the soldier finally left he felt like nothing had been sorted or established. The only thing he knew was that he didn't like Tony Stark and that Tony Stark didn't like him.

The comment Stark made about him being nothing more than some experiment hurt him but he didn't want to admit it. He'd never seen himself as a hero despite being labelled it many times by those during the war and the press of his day. He knew that Doctor Erskine chose him for more than just his desperate ituation but he'd never unpacked the reasons why.

Sitting on his bed, he peered down at his prosthetic leg as anger bubbled up in him. He balled his fist up and struck the metal which caused a cracking sound from the device. Steve had always wanted to do more, be more, help more but his amputation had taken him out from the field where he fought amongst his men. He'd been given the serum and bumped up to super soldier and never saw his team again. He didn't even know if they were still alive. Maybe Stark was right, without the serum he would have been dead years ago from a surgery caused infection, nothing heroic. It was then that he reaffirmed that he would never claim the label of a hero.

All he was, in his eyes, was an injured soldier.

—

A week later-

The idea of a late night run had been close to genius as it helped him clear his mind and unwind. However, somewhere along the line something had gone terribly wrong and he was now lying on the tiled ground floor of Stark tower with only a handful of meters between him and the elevator.

The team had moved in only a week ago and Steve could tell that Stark didn't want to invite him but saw him as a side effect of having Bruce, Natasha and Clint. If he had any other option he wouldn't have moved in but, as a newbie to the 21st century, he had no choice.

It was gone 3am and Steve couldn't move from the floor. The cold of the tile was seeping through his sweats and chilling his flesh. Only a few hundred meters from the tower a sharp shooting pain radiated out from his amputation site. He'd experienced it before and had been told all about phantom pains after his surgery but this was unlike any he'd experienced before. It felt like he'd stepped on the mine all over again and his muscle had been torn from his shattered bone.

Tears streamed down his face and the only sound was hisses of pain and gasps as another spasm of hurt would hit him. They were unrelenting as they hit him in constant waves so he never had a chance to catch his breath between attacks. He'd managed to at least pull himself through the doors of the tower before it overwhelmed him completely. He continued dragging himself like an injured animal on his front for a few moments further until it was simply too much. He'd not managed to move any further since then and he'd gone past the hope of waiting to see if anyone would stumble across his spasming figure.

The security guard's desk was empty as the watchman must have been out on patrol. However, Steve had been in agonising pain for nearly 30 minutes and nobody had returned so the man doubted he'd be saved.

It was completely by chance that Tony Stark was just coming home after a very successful date; so successful that he wasn't getting home until nearly 3:30. He froze when he noticed what looked like a pile of clothes on the shiny floor of the lobby as his mind leapt around for possible explanations.

Steve couldn't hear the man edging forward over the intensity of the pain and only realised the other man's presence when an uncertain hand touched his shoulder. Unprepared for the contact, Steve jumped in surprise and it triggered a fresh wave of agony that sent him withering on the floor.

"Steve?" Unsure, Stark's voice lacked his usual cocky tone.

"Help," The soldier managed to vocalise through his clenched jaw. His face was red and veins were prominent on his forehead.

"I'll call an ambulance?"

"No!" Steve's hand grabbed the genius' wrist and, not realising how tightly he squeezed, begged, "Upstairs. Please."

Steve could feel Tony's arms around him and it took the large man a moment to realise he'd have to engage his legs, the most painful part, if he wanted to make it up to his room. A groan echoed against the shiny walls and floors, a sound that only just managed to escape the gritted teeth.

"What happened?" Tony enquired, his voice was quiet but, with him supporting Steve body, they were close for the soldier to hear him perfectly. Unfortunately, Steve opened his mouth to answer at the exact moment the foot of his prosthetic leg touched the ground: a controlled scream was Tony's only answer. Instead of pushing the matter he simply hurried their pace towards the elevator as panic sank into his stomach.

The journey up to Steve's floor felt like a decade as Tony watched the man engage in breathing techniques to stop himself from vomiting from the pain.

"I'll call a medic when we get up." Stark murmured, as he'd never seen someone in so much pain. They hadn't been on a mission in almost a week and it was the middle of the night so the genius couldn't figure out who or what had hurt the soldier. What he did know though was that something inside him wanted to crush whatever had hurt him.

The ding of the elevator opening was like sweet music to both their ears and within minutes Tony had settled Steve on the end of the nearly made double bed. He didn't have time to take in the room as he couldn't take his eyes off the man writhing in pain.

"What do you need? A doctor? Hospital? Shall I get Bruce?" Chaotically, Tony began hovering over the man in desperation.

Suddenly, mustering all of his energy Steve hauled himself up and pulled up his pant leg and ripped off his prosthetic. He threw it as hard as he could against the wall as a cry of pain ripped from his chest. The leg damaged the wall but neither man was in a position to pay attention to it.

Open mouthed and wide eyed, Stark stood stock still staring at Steve's scarred and damaged stump, "What the fuck. What the fuck? What the fuck?" His eyes flicked between the amputation and the twisted prosthetic leg that lay distorted on the carpeted floor.

The genius began pacing in circles as he waved his arms around repeating "what the fuck" like a mantra.

He'd always though that he knew Steve Rogers. He'd practically been raised on Captain America stories as a kid and had glamorised the man his whole life. How had his father not mentioned that Steve was an amputee? He was missing close to his whole leg and the genius had never even suspected a thing.

Tony's heart suddenly ached for the man. He knew phantom pains, knew what it was like to live with technology to assist your living. His own archreactor reminded him daily of what he went through all those years ago. Doubtless, Steve's amputation gave him physical pain and the emotional pain of being transported back to the trauma of it happening. Stark couldn't help but ponder how it happened.

"What the fuck." He continued.

Steve huffed out, "Not helping," in between ragged breaths.

"Do you need a doctor then?"

"No, only phantom pains." He barely managed to finish the sentence before groaning.

Stark nodded, his assessment had been correct. He held onto Steve and dragged the man up to the pillows and rested him there. It was hard work under the man's dead weight but he managed it. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched the suffering man carefully and anxiously.

"It'll be okay. You can get through this." Tony offered even though he knew that the words would mean nothing.


	4. Chapter 4

Steve didn't remember falling asleep but he did remember the pain starting to ebb around the time that the sky was transforming itself into a faint orange. He blinked awake but his eyes felt heavy and he fought to keep them open. His clock beside his bed read 7:34 and he cursed his internal body clock for being so consistent. He could do with a couple more hours of sleep after the trauma of the night before.

He was about to close his eyes when he heard a snuffle of a snore from behind him. Turning to face the usually empty side of the bed, he realised that Tony Stark, a man with which he shares a mutual hatred, was sleeping beside him in bed. The soldier frowned slightly until the pain-distorted memories of the night before came filtering back: Tony had helped him up to his room and refused to leave until Steve was asleep. However, it now appeared as though the man had taken on the burden of being babysitter in case Steve needed anything in the night.

Not knowing what to think, he stared down at the genius and felt the hardness he felt towards the man soften. The protective ice around his heart began to thaw. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and peered around the room to where he saw his prosthetic lying on the floor, bent at an unnatural angle. His eyes followed up the wall to where a large hole had appeared and he quickly put two and two together. The memory of him throwing the leg come back to him and shame flushed through him quickly sending his face red.

"Oh God." He groaned and allowed himself to flop down onto his pillow.

The soldier jumped as a croaky from lack of use voice asked, "Does it still hurt?"

It took a moment for Steve to compose himself enough to answer, "No, it's just... I broke your wall."

Stark's head lifted minutely from the pillow but barely wasted a glance on the damage, "Don't worry, someone will come and repair it today." The genius lowered his head back down and closed his eyes, "You're not seriously getting up now, are you? You're body probably needs a rest after last night. Not to mention, I'd appreciate another couple of hours."

Steve managed a chuckle, despite the humor coming from a man he never thought he'd like, "I guess I could probably try another few hours."

"Good. You'll want to get as much peace as you can right now since I'll soon be telling the team that you kept me awake all night with your moaning." Steve could see the cheeky smirk as Tony laughed at his own sexual implication.

The soldier fired back quickly while tucking himself back under the blanket, "And I'll just tell them that you climbed into my bed unprompted."

They were both smiling gently as they drifted back off into a peaceful sleep.

—

The next time Tony woke up he could hear Steve moving around the bedroom but he didn't want to open his eyes to face the day so he just listened. Something sounded strange. Footsteps were distorted or oddly placed and a slight metal clicking sound was interspersed between the footsteps.

It was the sheer frustration of not knowing that forced Stark's eyes open and he had to lift his head a fraction to see the other man. An eyebrow raised as he was confronted with a sight he wasn't particularly prepared for:

Steve Rogers was completely naked, fine droplets of water were still on his broad shoulders from his shower. Hair damp and perky butt on display, the man looked unbelievably model like. The soldier was using crutches, Tony couldn't imagine where he'd been keeping them, but as he was putting a large amount of weight on them the muscles in the backs of his arms bulged nicely. Tony's jaw fell open at the sight. He'd refused to allow Steve to take up any space in his brain until last night so he'd never had a chance to fantasise over the man's adonis like body. From that distance he couldn't quite see the faded scars that littered his side and back. The super soldier was rifling through some drawers in search for some fresh clothes.

Suddenly, the man began to turn as though to check on the supposedly sleeping genius so Tony allowed his head to drop and opened his mouth just a touch; he'd been reliably informed by many bed partner's that he slept with his mouth open. There was a moment of silence as Steve must have been looking across at him but it dissipated quickly as Steve continued dressing. He had to perch on the edge of the bed to get his pants on but was gentle to ensure he didn't wake up the secretly-awake man.

It was only 20 minutes later that Tony emerged from the bedroom, his suit from the night before was creased as he'd not taken it off and he looked pretty disheveled from being up most of the night. He paced over the where Steve was sat at a table with a newspaper in front of him.

The genius sat opposite him and stared at the soldier until he realised that he wasn't about to be thanked. Frowning he confronted the man, "I do a fucking good deed and you act like I'm still just trash that someone left on your lawn." He was used to praise and reward for his actions. That's how Pepper had taught him to behave himself.

"Oh, I'm sorry... thank you, Tony." He lowered his newspaper to look directly into Tony's face.

"How'd it happen?" Leaning his head, he looked like a puppy as he enquired.

There were several beats of silence and Tony was convince that Steve was about to completely ignore him, "I don't want to talk about it."

The memory of it brought back bad memories as he could still remember the absolute all-consuming nature of the pain, the panic of his troops and the feeling of complete helplessness as he was stretchered back to base. He'd only recalled the actual event a handful of times and that was mainly because he had no choice.

There was a beat of silence before Tony stood up, "Okay, I'd better get going."

Steve barely looked up at him when he left. Sighing, Steve was ashamed of himself for acting this way but he could practically see Stark's thoughts forming. He knew that the man was only trying to be nice to him because he felt sorry for the poor cripple who needed help. Steve threw the newspaper aside despite its innocence in the situation. One thing he knew was that Stark hated him 24 hours ago but now is acting differently due to him being perceived as an invalid and Steve couldn't accept that.

Little did Steve know that Tony didn't feel anything like this. He recognised Steve's pain in the pain he felt in his arch reactor so he wanted to reach out and help the soldier. If Steve was going to have a stick up his ass then Tony wouldn't bother. He'd try to go back to hating the ass although it would be difficult now he knew they had survivorship as something that connected them.

—

At the briefing the next morning, Steve strode in as though nothing had happened. Tony surreptitiously eyed his walk and leg in an attempt to assess what happened with the man's broken prosthetic. From Tony's untrained eye it appeared as though SHIELD had quickly replaced or repaired the tech. It wasn't exactly like they could have Captain America running around on crutches during a mission. He wasn't sure if it was his over analysis or reality but it appeared as though Steve was walking with the slightest limp.

The soldier sat opposite Tony but turned his chair to face the area where Fury would be talking to avoid eye contact. Miscommunication was running rampant as Steve thought Tony pitied him for his leg and Tony thought that Steve was just being a cold ass despite his attempts to help him.

Steve remained mostly silently throughout the briefing and Tony was similarly quiet as he spent the majority of the time covertly watching the other man. The rest of the team easily picked up on the strange tension that had subdued the pair's usual dynamic of bickering like children.

Nobody had time to question the men on their sudden behaviour change as within the hour they were being suited up and shipped out to the emerging battle scene. They'd been informed and prepared to face a giant globular monster that had landed only an hour ago with intentions to destroy the human race.

Hopefully, their argument wouldn't jeopardise the team.


	5. Chapter 5

They landed a street over from the epicentre and the team quickly ran towards the beast. It was easy to find as screams and the sounds of it breaking things echoed out from its location. Thor and Tony took off into the air to get a location on the thing and guide the team in. Rocket blasters at full, Tony was powering ahead so it was only by pure coincidence that he glanced back to the team. He had to double take when he noticed Steve was falling behind; usually Steve took the leadership role on missions and lead the group during the fight. Something seemed off to the genius so he quickly curved around and headed back despite Thor's confused looks.

As he got closer he could see the cause of Steve's unusual behaviour. The man was still attempting to run whilst leaning down with one hand grasping into his prosthetic leg as though he was trying to hold it together. Stark frowned and landed next to the soldier. Something inside of him told him just to continue on without the soldier but another part of him was reminded of the pain of Steve's phantom pains only shortly before.

Steve looked grateful that Tony's presence allowed him to stop running and when he stopped the soldier whipped his hand away as though nothing was wrong. The genius wanted to roll his eyes at Steve's macho antics; the remanence of his former military training was still firmly drilled into him.

Visor rising, Tony didn't waste any time, "What's wrong?" Although he hated to admit it, Steve was one of their strongest team members and they needed him in order to function as a team.

Almost as though he knew Tony was his only viable option, Steve sighed and sat down on the curb to began pulling up the leg of his pants, "My leg... they tried to repair the damage from last night but something isn't right."

Tony knelt down in front of his teammate, his hands hovered over the metal leg as his eyes scanned the device. It was more advanced than most you'd find in public use as obviously SHIELD had obtained the very best for one of their key weapons. Tony hoped that he'd be able to get a proper look at it soon as he was very much intrigued by its inner workings.

Footsteps approached, Bruce was running back to find out what held them up. Luckily, he hadn't yet transformed into the Big Guy so he was able to fetch his friends.

The scientist stopped a few steps away and stared open mouthed at the scene before him. He blinked and frowned, "You... your leg."

Steve nodded, "I have a prosthetic leg."

"Oh..." Bruce stared for a moment longer before he was able to control his inner scientist and researcher and approach him, "Do you need help?"

"I've got him," Tony answered before Steve could even begin to reply, "You'll probably be more use to the team until we catch up. Let them know we're on our way."

The doctor flushed and nodded before jogging back off to join the others. Bruce glanced back to gain another look as he began running in the opposite direction; his curiosity was similar to Stark's in its scientific nature. However, Steve was silently pleased he didn't have any more of an audience with his malfunctioning leg.

Steve's eyebrows rose as Tony placed his hands under the leg with the gentlest touch Steve had ever witnessed from the man. With only a guiding force, Tony turned Steve's leg slightly to the side so he could take a look at the mechanics which allowed the joint to bend when the man walked. He bent the leg and easily saw that it was overly stiff so the function that sprang the leg back was broken or hadn't been adequately repaired.

He squinted into the technology and managed to get his fingers amongst the wires and pistons. He found the solution almost immediately; a wire had gotten wrapped around the mechanism that pushed the leg back into a straight position after it bent to take a step. He wiggled them apart and re-tested the movement. It was now smooth like it was designed to be but being this close up Stark could identify several components that could be altered or upgraded. His mind was already whirring at potential changes he could make in his lab and the thought of having such a worthwhile project excited him.

"There," He said softly and began to re-cover the prosthetic limb, "That should do it."

"Thank you," Tony's hands were still placed under his leg and, even though it wasn't his flesh, the action felt somewhat intimate and Steve couldn't help the blush from rising to his cheeks. He'd never seen this side of Tony before and he'd have to take some time to think about what this meant.

Stark smiled as if he knew something Steve didn't, "Come on, let's catch up. They have no chance without us." Despite his words, he held Steve for a couple of moments longer and peered up into his blue eyes.

The sound of a car being launched through the air and crashing into a building broke the air around them and they snapped apart.

"D'you need a ride?" Tony smirked as he prepared to take to the air again.

"No, thank you. One mechanical leg is enough, I can't imagine a whole suit." Despite his rejection he smiled gently.

With a nod Stark took off to join the others. Moments later Steve was following on foot and he'd be there shortly now that his leg was working smoothly. Thanks to Tony's quick adjustments, the mission was a success as Steve had managed to get in there and manage the team like he knew was best.

—

It was one week later and Steve had decided to turn in early. He'd spent a couple of frustrated days alternating between trying to make do with his malfunctioning prosthesis and having to use his crutches. Him throwing the leg against the wall (which was all fixed now) and turned out to do more damaged that he'd intended. The leg was struggling to deal with the damage and the shoddy repairs they'd done last minute to ensure Steve would be able to fight that day kept failing.

So, out of frustration and a sheer lack of willpower to continue fighting with the device, he had ripped it off and climbed into bed despite the early hour. He was just considering how nice it felt to be free of the prosthetic for a while so he could move his body freely under the sheets when the door suddenly opened and Tony marched in.

The lights snapped on and the genius froze with something in his arms.

"Tony?" Steve asked in shock. However, the shock he felt today was much more pleasant than the distain he would have felt a couple of weeks ago when they first met. Their relationship had somehow transformed during that time.

"Oh shit! Sorry, I was just... Wait, why are you in bed, grandpa? It's 9pm." He pulled an incredulous face as he gestured to the man fully tucked up in his king size bed. All that was missing was a mug of hot coco and a glass for his dentures.

Steve sat up, the blanket fell from him and, upon the reveal of his muscled chest, Stark was reminded that Steve was, in fact, definitely not a grandpa. He felt his eyes linger on his body but snapped himself out of it immediately as he remembered that it was Steve and they had a complicated relationship.

"My goddamn leg was giving me jip and I couldn't stand another moment with it or in my crutches." He gestured over to where the keg was propped up beside his chair where he strapped in every morning.

A fake gasp came from Tony, "Language, Captain."

He laughed, the freest laugh Tony had yet to hear from the soldier, "The goddamn leg deserves it!" Reality seemed to settle moments later, "Is there some reason you're breaking into your guests rooms in the night while they're sleeping?"

"One: You're not sleeping. Two: it's hardly breaking in when it's my house. Three: I thought you were out because Jarvis said all lights were out." He shrugged. He stepped closer to the bed, "I wanted to bring you this."

The inventor placed a suspiciously-leg-looking device on the end of Steve's bed and stepped back.

He watched as Steve inched forward to pull the prosthetic up onto his lap so he could begin assessing it. It was sleek and didn't seem to hold even half of the technology of the SHIELD one, no wires were on display. The light metal was cool against his fingers as he silently touched the leg.

"It's a prosthetic?" Steve peered up at the man.

"A new one. I made it." Tony stepped forward slightly, "May I?" He held out his hand to request the prosthetic.

Passing it over, Steve pulled himself out of the bed so he could sit on the edge. It felt somewhat intimate to be in a room with Tony while he was topless. He silently thanked the Lord that he'd chosen to wear pyjama pants to bed tonight as he often didn't.

Tony knelt in front of him similarly to how he did a week before. From such close proximity to the man's perfect body the inventor could see the scars ranging in size littering the torso. Lifting the man's pant leg, he rolled it up until he had full access to Steve's amputation site but he could tell by the way Steve clenched his fist that the man felt vulnerable being so exposed. Tony rested his hand on the other knee to reassure him of his purely good intentions. Hadn't Steve learnt by now that something about that first night tonight had changed the way they viewed each other?

Carefully, with his attention completely captivated by his work, Tony began to attach the prosthetic to Steve. He took his time and ensured everything was properly in place and that any material that would cause Steve discomfort was hidden behind the gentle silicone. His large fingers softly touched the skin of Steve's thigh, moving in massaging circles.

The inventor had finished the fitting but he remained motionless aside from the minute movements of his fingers. Steve's breath hitched at the fondness of the action and it took him a moment to register when Tony finally told him to stand and try it out.

The soldier stood and Tony followed his motion. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a patch that didn't look much bigger than a postage stamp. After peeling the backing off, Tony reaches up to position the sticky patch behind Steve's right ear. His hand lingered there for a moment as their eyes met again. Steve's heart began to race.

"Okay, that's basically a signal transmitter so it gets the leg ready for anything you are about to do and more. Give it a go." Tony stepped back to give him space to explore.

Steve looked uncertain for a moment before he paced the length of the room and, with each step, his eyebrows rose infinitely higher. By the time he was running around the room, a huge smile had laid stake to the man's lips. He jumped and leaped and even jumped on the bed.

"I can't believe it." Steve uttered between deep lunges, "It almost feels like... like I still have my leg."

"It should do. The chip is reading all the signals your leg would have received and is relaying them to the prosthetic so it moves exactly how you remember." Tony shrugged from where he was watching it all unfold. He'd never particularly liked Steve Rogers so if you had told him 6 months ago that he would spend days working on a prosthetic for the man then he would have called you a liar. Somewhere and somehow between then and now, his opinion of the soldier had completely flipped. He could identify with the man's pain and his struggle with his prosthetics as Tony had had issues with the Arch reactor several times before.

The large man, who currently seemed more like an over grown puppy, stopped in front of his teammate and smiled, "I don't know if I could ever thank you."

"You don't need to." Tony answered, he was accidentally displaying his softer and more vulnerable side again, "Anyways, that's all I wanted to give you. I'll hit the road so you can get back to bed."

The inventor had his hand on the door handle when Steve's voice stopped him, "Why'd you do it?"

Peering over his shoulder, Tony's voice seemed sad, "Because you deserve better."

Tony's mind wasn't able to follow what happened next but the next thing he was able to process was Steve's lips on his. He'd turned and his back was leaning against the door which he was grateful for as the shock of it made his legs wobble. Steve's large hand cupped Tony's cheek and he used it to pull him closer. The blond man's other hand was resting on the door beside Tony's head so, for a moment, Tony's world was Steve and Steve alone. It was intoxicating.

They kissed and neither knew how long for but they split as their lungs became desperate for breath. As they parted the billionaire suddenly realised that his hands had snaked up onto Steve's naked torso with his fingers caressing the hardness of his abs. He felt slight bumps which were the light scar tissue left over from the accident. He dropped them awkwardly and Steve chuckled.

"You... you didn't have to do that because of the leg..." Tony went cold at the idea of Steve somehow using Tony's developing infatuation with the hero as payment for the prosthetic.

"Don't be ridiculous. I think I've wanted to kiss you since that first time I woke up with you in my bed." Steve smiled, they were still so close together.

Tony smirked, "You should have. You'd probably be getting more than a prosthetic leg now if you did."

The soldier smiled, "Thank you, Tony. For then and for now."

"Don't worry about it. It's nothing."

"And I'm sorry for how I acted afterwards... I realise now that I had completely misjudged you and it was so wrong of me." He flushed in his shame.

"Don't even think about it. I thought similarly bad things of you." Tony replied as he got ready to leave again.

The smaller man loitered by the door as if waiting for something but, just as Steve opened his mouth, the smaller man opened the door and marched out quickly.

Steve, however, was faster thanks to his new prosthetic and managed to catch the Tony by the elevator. He grabbed the man's hand and pulled him back towards the bedroom as he placed luscious kisses on his lips. Tony went willingly as Steve's mouth put him into a trance.

The genius hummed in satisfaction as Steve pushed the door shut behind him. Tony took the lead now as he lowered the soldier onto the bed and gazed down at the exposed chest to run his fingers over the tight muscles there. Fingers grazed over raised skin as his touch found the large scars from Steve's accident again. Tony's mind instantly leapt to imagining what might have caused it. Did the freezing do it? Or something from the war? Or before? He'd still not been told of anything that had happened to Steve from before they met.

It was almost as if Steve could read Tony's rapidly firing thoughts as he gently eased the other man's hand away from the scar tissue and onto his shoulder. Now was not the time for reliving trauma. Tony didn't try and explore the scars further as he knew from his own experience how triggering it can be.

However, he dropped his hand to rest on Steve's waist band and, upon Steve reaching out for Tony's own belt, he touched the other man through his pyjama pants. Their mouths parted as Steve's breath hitched and his fingers clumsily rushed to undo Tony's belt. It took him a moment but eventually he released him and managed to get Tony out of his skinny jeans.

"Oh, God." Steve murmured as Tony's hand never strayed from massaging his dick through the thin material.

Those words were all Tony needed to send him wild with desire for this man. He pushed Steve back until he was lying completely flat on the bed and Tony lowered himself on his knees in front of the soldier. He peeled off the pants so Steve's dick was standing erect only centimetres from his mouth. Tony knew Steve would be large but the man was currently surpassing all of his expectations.

Steve shivered as he felt Tony's breath ghosting over the sensitive skin in a tempting taster of what was to come. He didn't have to wait long as the man grasped tightly onto the base of Steve dick making him suddenly gasp. The genius' other hand massaged firm circled into the man's scarred thigh just above the amputation site to encourage him.

Eyes closed and head thrown back at the sensations, Steve wasn't prepared for the feeling of Tony's tongue against the tip and it moved along the slit so Tony could taste the pre-cum. The soldier was balling his fists into the covers of his bed as he began to squirm at the slow, teasing nature of Tony's touch. He knew exactly how to wind him up and would ensure it was a journey full of desperation and need.

Tony lowered his mouth onto Steve's dick and moved all the way down until he could feel the throbbing tip pressed against the very back of his throat. Having learnt to deep throat years earlier, this posed no issue and the genius took him deeper. Moaning, Steve curled his fingers in the dark hair as Tony continued his ministrations. The deep warmth was too much for him.

"Tony, I-I can't hold off any longer." The soldier groaned. The gentle touches and kissing had meant that he'd Egan to get excited long before Tony had even started.

"Then don't. Come for me." Tony purred. He took Steve into his mouth again and with barely a touch the soldier came.

Tony felt pleased with himself as he drank down every trace and worked Steve through his orgasm. The soldier laid back with his eyes closed and chest heaving to catch his breath.

"Oh God, Tony."

"Yep." He chuckled.

Steve immediately sat up as a realisation struck him. A dark, mischievous look passed over his features as he smirked at his lover.

"Come here." The soldier ordered. Tony obeyed as he climbed onto the bed until he was straddling the thighs of the taller man. He could feel the cool silicone of the prosthetic under his legs but his attention barely noticed it; he was far to distracted. Steve leant up to kiss Tony while his hands removed Tony's last article of clothing, his shirt, and demanding hands explored the tight form underneath.

Steve could taste himself on Tony's tongue and the idea almost made him hard again. It was having a similar effect on Stark who was moaning at the feather-light pressure his dick was receiving from simply their torsos being pressed together.

They continued making out as Steve's hand snaked down between them and grasped his member. Tony gasped into their kiss and it only encouraged the other man to stroke faster and harder. The billionaire could feel himself being wretched towards the precipice and he knew he was going to come any moment. Just the thought of Steve Rogers jerking him off sent his stomach muscles clenching and his eyes screwing up.

His muscles clenched and his brain suddenly stopped functioning as the orgasm hit him full force. Closing his eyes, he fell forward and rested his head against the man's broad chest and the soldier held him up while chuckling gently.

Tony didn't have time to consider why a simple hand job had sent him reeling so much but he was maybe beginning to admit that he might have a major crush on Captain America.

He opened his eyes when he felt Steve's lips pressing against his. The kisses were less frantic and desperate but had instead become gentle and fond. He felt Steve card his fingers through Tony's short hair and it sent a gentle shiver down his spine.

"Here," Steve whispered gently as he shifted the smaller man onto the bed, "Lets get you cleaned up."

Tony, now sprawled out on Steve's soft king size bed struggled to keep his eyes open as Steve cleaned them both up. He hadn't thought about his come creating a mess of both of their torsos.

Minutes later, Steve was taking off his new prosthetic and climbing into bed beside Tony. They both wouldn't admit to making the first move but somewhen throughout the night the men ended up entwined together and it was the best night sleep they'd had in years.


	6. Final Chapter

Steve was woken up by gentle touches on his abdomen and he blinked his eyes open to peer down at whatever was causing the tickling sensation. He saw Tony's fingertips ghosting across his skin and paying particular attention to the serum-faded scars that littered his right side in particular. The soldier frowned until he looked down at Tony who was resting his head against Steve's shoulder and was touching the scars with reverence and curiosity.

He watched Tony for some time. His heart was swelling up with love and admiration as he glanced down at the gentleness of the other man.

The billionaire jumped when Steve finally spoke as he didn't know the man had woken up yet, "It was a mine."

Tony looked up at him but went back to mapping the pale wounds across the man's body. He didn't speak to allow Steve to explain.

"They were pretty common during the war and we'd been trained to keep an eye out for them. I don't know whether I was just tired, just being sloppy or maybe it was just hidden really well but I didn't see it and set it off. Probably for the best since my men were following behind me so if it wasn't me then it would have been one of them." He stopped and took a shaking breath, "It completely mangled my leg to the point that it didn't even look leg-like anymore. The rest of my body got completely mauled by the debris which is why I have so many scars." His own fingers traced the old wounds, "I would have died from my injuries and the infection from the surgery if it wasn't for Dr Erskine who selected me for the serum."

"Why you?" Tony asked, his voice was uncharacteristically subdued.

Steve huffed a laugh, "I know you think that everything I can do is a result of the serum but I was a Captain before the serum. I led a large squad and had a reputation for helping out and doing what I could." Tony could sense that Steve was glossing over the details of his heroics, "So he thought it would be worth testing the serum on me. Besides, I was a guy who couldn't exactly say no since the alternative was death by infection. He said that there was a chance the serum could restore my leg but it didn't... I don't think he really believed that it could but maybe my belief was all it took to seal the deal."

He coughed slightly as if extracting himself from a reverie, "Anyways, after the serum I continued in the army for a while until I ended up in the frost and, well, you know the rest."

Tony continued to learn his way around Steve's chest through his fingertips and promised himself to commit it to memory. They shared in the companionable silence for some time before Tony spoke again.

"Do you miss it... your leg, I mean."

Steve laughed again, "Of course! It's a hard adjustment and I've had to live with some bad prosthetics in the past but the accident allowed me to become Captain America. Without it I never would have met you or lived all of this."

The questions suddenly turned, "Did you hate me when you first met me?"

Again, the soldier chuckled, "Oh yes, I thought you were stuck up, spoilt and an ass."

"Now you know they're all true."

"Yeah, but I also now know that on top of those things you're kind, caring and compassionate." Steve smiled down at the man.

"I really hated you too. I didn't think you'd done anything worthy of praise. I didn't know your past."

Steve shrugged, "At least we can say that the feeling was mutual."

They both chuckled and Tony rested his head back against the warm chest and sighed.

They were content and they knew that, as long as they had each other, everything would be okay. They'd faced challenges before but anything that came at them now would only be easier since they could fight it together.


End file.
